


A Question of Morality

by cyberiandemons



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Autistic Nastya Rasputina, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25519639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberiandemons/pseuds/cyberiandemons
Summary: Nastya stood in front of him, shaking and covered in blood. Jonny stood, slowly approaching her. “Nas, what happened?”“I—” Nastya took in a deep breath. “I killed someone.”“Oh.” He blinked. “Is that all?”—The first time Nastya ever killed someone, she had a crisis of morality. And, unfortunately, the only one around to talk her through it was Jonny d’Ville.
Relationships: Jonny d’Ville/Nastya Rasputina
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	A Question of Morality

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, heads up: this is a pretty intense fic! While they’re incredibly entertaining, the Mechanisms are also ultimately all very, very bad people. That aspect is explored in this fic, featuring a character whose morals I haven’t seen discussed as much in the fandom. If you’re not up for that, you should probably click back now.
> 
> If you’re still here: hope you enjoy!

Nastya tugged her coat tighter around herself, lowering her head and staring at the ground as she walked through the bustling market. She had forgotten how fucking terrible going to crowded markets alone could be. But there were multiple stands and shops selling electronics, and Jonny was busy, so she had come alone. Her thought had been that coming in the evening would be better, that the crowds would have died down, but there were still an unfortunate amount of people around. She tried to focus on all of the wonderful things she would be able to buy today, trying to distract herself from the noise and heat and  _ people. _

Her coat provided lovely, calming pressure, but as the setting sun refused to go down fast enough and continued to beat down on the market, as the throng of organic and mechanical bodies surrounding her increased the temperature on the street, she suddenly found that she couldn’t breathe. Everything was crashing in around her—noise and light and horrible, stifling heat. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t  _ think.  _ Spotting an alleyway up ahead, she ran to it and ducked inside as she shoved her coat off, gasping as she tried to cool down. She sat down against the brick wall of the building behind her, leaning her head back and trying to breathe.

“Are you alright, young one?”

Nastya jumped at the sound of a Cyberian-accented voice above her. She looked up to see a large, burly man standing above her, concern etched over his face. Her heart stopped. His coat was slung over his arm, but even in the darkness of the alleyway, the symbol of Robotnik Yenin emblazoned on the sleeve was still visible. 

She took a few moments to try to steady her breathing. “I’m fine,” she replied, trying her best to shove down her Cyberian accent. “Just a little hot, is all.”

The man’s face lit up. “Ah, someone else from the home planet!” he said in Cyberian. Nastya winced. “You’re a long way from home,  _ devushka _ .”

Nastya tried to bite down her annoyance. “I guess so,” she said, slipping into Cyberian before she could stop herself. She took a moment before continuing, trying to tone down her noble speech patterns and pronunciation to sound as informal as possible. “So are you.”

The man leaned against the wall. “What brings you so far from our wonderful planet?”

“Ah…” Dammit, she wished Jonny was here. He was so much better at spinning lies than she was. “Just wanted a change of pace, is all. And yourself?”

“Vacation.” The man smiled. “It’s nice to see other places, isn’t it?”

“Mm.”

He smiled down at her. “I’m Dmitri Yurievich Babkin. And you?”

“Uh… Yulia Petrovna Rostova.” 

“A pleasure, Yulia Petrovna.” Dmitri pushed himself from the wall with a grunt. “Well, I’ll let you get going. I’m sure you have better things to do than talk to a silly old man.”

“Mm.” Nastya stood, shrugging her coat back on. She took a deep breath. Just get through the next few moments, and then the danger would be passed. She would be okay. “You too” 

As they exited the alleway and stepped out of the shadows, Dmitri paused, staring at Nastya’s face in the sunlight. He frowned, looking over her face. “You look familiar…”

Nastya looked away from him, hand itching to go towards the pistol on her side that Jonny had insisted she start carrying around with her. If she ended up actually needing it, she would definitely owe him a drink. “Just one of those faces, I guess.” 

“Hm.” Dmitri smiled. “I suppose so. Well, have a nice night, Yulia Petrovna.”

“And you.” Nastya turned, rushing away from him and ducking into the nearest electronic shop she could find. She took several long, deep breaths, trying to stop her processors from overheating with anxiety. Spotting a fan in the corner, she went and stood next to it for a few minutes, breathing in deeply as she did. 

A teenager with a name tag came up and started straightening a shelf next to her. After a moment, he paused, looking over at her with his brow furrowing. “Uh, sorry if this is rude, but… is your body humming?”

Nastya forced an awkward smile. “Cyborg, sorry. I’m just overheating a little.”

“Oh, right. Uh, sorry. Want me to turn the fan up?” Nastya nodded. The boy moved past her, turning the fan up to the highest setting. “There you go.”

“Thank you.” Nastya sighed. When she was finally cool enough that she didn’t feel like she was going to shut down at any moment, she moved away and began looking around the store. It was a huge store—three levels of electronics and mechanical parts. Within a few minutes, her encounter with Dmitri was gone from her mind as she smiled and looked through the entire store.

By the time she was leaving the store with bags full of electronics (and a few smaller things snuck into the pockets of her coat), the sun had gone down, the outdoor market had closed, and the streets were empty. Nastya blinked, looking around the streets. She hadn’t realized she’d been in there so late. Jonny was probably getting worried; she should hurry back before he shot up half the town trying to find her. Nastya sighed and started on the path back to the ship.

Alone on the streets, her earlier encounter with Dmitri came back to her mind. She shuddered and increased her speed. In the dark of the streets, only a few flickering lamps every block or so, Nastya began to feel very, very vulnerable. She shifted the cloth bags in her hands until they were hanging from her arms, then very carefully drew her gun from under her coat. It made her feel a little better—but just a little.

Nastya rounded a corner, then froze, breath hitching. Somebody was walking towards her. Trying desperately to calm herself, she forced her legs to move again, carrying her forward. Towards the figure on the sidewalk. The figure was in shadow right now, but they were both headed towards a street light. Nastya took in a deep, shaky breath and kept her head down as she walked. 

As they both entered the glow of the streetlight, she glanced up. Dmitri looked down at her. Nastya gasped. As he opened his mouth to speak, reaching a hand towards her, Nastya lifted her gun and shot. 

Fifteen minutes later, she stumbled into the Aurora. “Jonny?” she called out, voice shaky.

“In the kitchen!” 

Nastya let her bags fall to the ground and took several stumbling steps towards the kitchen. After a moment, she broke out into a quick walk, then a full-on run. She threw the door open, bursting into the kitchen. Jonny looked up from the table. He dropped his glass of whiskey on the floor.

Nastya stood in front of him, shaking and covered in blood. Jonny stood, stepping around the broken glass as he slowly approached her. “Nas, what happened?”

“I—” Nastya took in a deep breath. “I killed someone.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Is that all?”

Nastya let out a short, manic laugh. “What do you mean, ‘is that all’? Jonny, I  _ killed  _ someone.”

“So what?” He stepped forward and drew her into an embrace, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. “I kill people all the time. I’ve killed, like, five people today alone.” 

“But I don’t  _ do  _ that.” Nastya pulled back, looking down at him. “I’ve never killed someone before!”

“Oh, really?” He looked away, face thoughtful. After a moment, his eyebrows raised as he nodded. “Yeah, I guess you haven’t. What happened?”

Nastya opened her mouth, closed it. She thought for a good, long moment before saying, “It—it was self defense.”

“Well, fuck, then that hardly even counts!” He grinned up at her. “And here I thought you were getting up to something fun.” She gave him a weak, half-hearted smile in return. Something approaching concern grew onto Jonny’s face. He stepped forward, embracing her for another moment and giving her a quick kiss before pulling back. “How about we get you cleaned up?” Nastya nodded. Jonny took her hand, guiding her to the bathroom near her room. “Do you want me to stay in here with you?” Nastya nodded again. Jonny got settled sitting on the floor, back against the cabinet, while Nastya climbed into the shower.

After a minute or two, Nastya slid the shower door open and leaned her head out. “Jonny?”

“Mm?”

“Would you get in with me?”

“Yeah, always.” Jonny stood, shoving his clothes off before climbing into the shower next to Nastya. He pulled her forward, drawing her into a kiss. She relaxed against him, melting into the kiss as his strong hands rubbed circles in her back. “Alright,” he said softly, “Let’s get all of that off of you.” Nastya found herself relaxing against Jonny’s hands, letting him clean all of the blood and…  _ pieces  _ off of her body and out of her hair. “Wow, you really went to town on this guy.”

Nastya grimaced. “I didn’t mean to. It just sort of… happened. I don’t know, I just—” She sighed. “He was from Cyberia. He had Yenin’s symbol on his jacket. I think he might have recognized me.”

“Oh, shit.” Jonny pulled back, looking up at her. “Was he alone? Do we need to leave?”

“I’m not sure.” She took in a long, deep breath, looking away from Jonny. “Can I be completely honest?”

Jonny took her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Always.”

“I’m not… I’m not entirely sure that it  _ was  _ self defense.” She pulled her hand from Jonny’s, wrapping her arms around herself. “All he did was look at me. But we were the only people on the street, and I just—I got worried he was going to do something, so I acted first.”

“I mean, sounds reasonable to me.” He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her. “I don’t think you should feel bad, Nastya.”

“That’s the thing that’s bothering me, though,” she whispered. “I  _ don’t  _ feel bad. I should feel awful. I killed someone. But I just… I don’t care. When we spoke earlier, he was kind to me. For all I know, he was just a gentle old man who meant me no harm. And I killed him. And I don’t feel bad.” 

Jonny pressed a kiss to her collarbone. “That’s alright. It’s okay, Nastya. I know it…” He took in a deep breath. “I know it feels alarming, at first. But you get used to it pretty quick.”

Nastya nodded, closing her eyes and leaning against him. “Jonny?” she whispered.

“Mm?”

“Are we bad people?”

Jonny let out a short laugh. “Fuck, Nastya, I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. Do you care?”

Nastya thought about that for a long, long moment before shaking her head. “No. I don’t.”

“Good. Me neither.” He tugged her down for another kiss. “Let’s get in bed. You look exhausted.”

“I feel exhausted.”

Jonny helped her step out of the shower before grabbing a towel and slowly drying her off, kissing each inch of her skin as he did. When they were both dry, he wrapped her in a towel before wrapping one around his waist and opening the door. “C’mon. Your room or mine?”

“Mine, if you don’t mind.” As she exited the bathroom, she grimaced down at her clothes on the floor. “I should probably throw those out.”

“I dunno, you looked pretty good covered in blood.”

Nastya rolled her eyes, leading them down the hall to her bedroom. As soon as they got inside, she threw her towel on the floor and collapsed into bed. Jonny wasted no time in following her, climbing in next to her and pulling the blankets up around them both. He tugged her into his arms, and she curled up against his chest. Nastya closed her eyes, listening to that strange metallic thumping that had become calming to her. “I love you, Jonny,” she whispered. 

“I love you too, Nas.” He pressed a kiss to her head. “Let’s try to get some sleep.”

“Yeah.” Nastya sighed, closing her eyes. 

As she fell asleep, she braced herself for the nightmares that she was sure were to come. But they didn’t. Hours after killing a man, Nastya slept peacefully. And when she awoke, she felt no guilt. Six years ago, before her death, she would have. But now, as she woke to the new day, the memory of the previous night’s murder slipped from her mind as she wondered what she was going to have for breakfast. As screams erupted back in the town as the pieces of a man’s body were found on the sidewalk, Nastya Rasputina felt completely at peace. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Tumblr at cyberian-demons.


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